April 1, 2008

There’s a pair of experimental specials on the menu this week—haute cuisine to go with the new high fashion scene of Port Charles.  First, may I offer Maxie’s Milieu, a Kobe beef tartare, flash-cured with a horseradish immersion?  It’s refined but definitely has a bite.  Second, we have Lulu’s Lunch, a whole parboiled Walleye accompanied by a red wine vinegar foam.  It can be bitter and scaly but why settle for a tasty dish when you can have this one forced down your throat? 

Are you all shocked and awed that TPTB actually realized what a logical progression it is to have Maxie work for Kate?  Are you all standing mouths agape at the idiocy of throwing Lulu into the mix?  Such highs we have, swiftly undercut with the banality of forcing certain characters into every storyline.  Even though Lulu flits about like a bug just beyond my flyswatter’s reach, I still haven’t been this excited about a business storyline, since, well, L&B made their first music video.  Anybody for Team Maxie t-shirts? 

Ric often comes across to me as the Lex Luthor to Sonny’s Superman.  His motives are anything but pure yet I can’t help but want to soothe the bruised little boy inside who was abandoned by his mother, always belittled by his father, and suffers from severe sex appeal.  Not that I want Rick Hearst to shave his head, but I can’t help but empathize with someone who never wins. 

*Gag* Did they really just have Patrick freak out over holding a baby?  Last I heard, he was a doctor.  You know, doctors…who have to do rounds in all disciplines during their residencies…that includes obstetrics…okay, enough with the ellipses; you get what I’m saying here.  Patrick has likely delivered dozens of babies.  I highly doubt he would feel awkward holding one, yet the tinkly music of hijinks and wackiness tells me otherwise. 

Isn’t it fabulous that Maxie can just say, “Yeah I did a lot of research when I was pretending to be pregnant,” and Robin doesn’t blink an eye.  Isn’t family grand? 

I love that Nik’s been interacting with Monica.  Emily hardly talked to her when she was alive so it’s been surprising to see the two share screen time.  Watching them is like looking at a manual of ways to destroy oneself through grief. Cross-generational scenes like these just have some much depth to them.  More, please! 

As I’m supposed to think Claudia’s sexy as she shimmies up to every man in town?  Or is she just trying to live down to Sonny’s expectations, since he does call her a whore every other day.  Whatever it is, I’m tired of it.  She’s what would come out if both Carly and Faith were melted down and poured into the same mold; in other words, I’ve seen all her tricks before. 

It’s high past time Nadine ratted Nikolas out.  I loved her sarcasm while recounting Nik’s excuses for not having his surgery.  None of us understand why he wants to keep talking to Bore-me-ly either, honey. 

Why am I supposed to be okay with Luke nonchalantly cheating on Tracey?  Why is Tracey okay with it? 

Color me shocked—Jason’s hand is actually requiring an additional surgery!  I figured that whole injury was already swept under the rug.  Will it actually play an important part in the coming weeks, much like the starring role that Sonny’s pill bottle use to have? 

Once again, Ric utters my line of the week, “Ah insanity, it’s a convenient thing, isn’t it?” 

What are we offered for dessert this week, you ask?  Why, another mob hit, served with a scoop of accidental injury for a certain ice cream lover in our midst.  Will he lapse into a sugar coma or will it be death by chocolate bullet?